Vendetta
by SheWritesThings
Summary: Nina is insane. She lives in the woods with her dead brother on one end of a rope, sleeping in trees, hunting walkers. After leaving a wounded man in a ravine for dead and witnessing a little girl being mauled by a walker, Nina slips further into insanity. Meetings with the Atlanta group will force her to realize how her decisions have ruined the lives of others. Season 2 on.
1. Chapter 1 - Coward

**AN: This story will contain a bunch of meetings with the Atlanta group. It's going to be a lot of fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it! Nina is such a fun character, and her development it something I can't wait to get into. We meet Daryl in this chapter, but only briefly.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own Nina and Cole, nothing else.  
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**Thanks for reading!**

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Chapter 1 – Coward

She breathed softly, quietly, her breath white and ghostly as it left her lips. A shudder racked her body and she scrubbed her hands rapidly up and down her arms, the muscles in her back aching with the force of her tremors. The feeble blanket and fire she had were nowhere near enough to fight off the cold. The fire was only just enough to keep her from freezing, and the blanket more for camouflage than warmth.

Nina drew her hands to her mouth and breathed into them, rubbing them together. She glanced up at her companion, who was across the fire from her.

"How you holding up, kid?" Her companion, as usual, made no reply. He locked eyes with her and let out a throaty snarl. "Yeah," she scoffed. "Tell me about it." He strained at the ropes that held him, one end tied around his middle, the other end knotted around a tree, with just enough slack for him to roam a few feet. Nina kept her eyes on him.

He growled and moaned, straining against the rope to get to her. She wasn't alarmed in the slightest, of course. She was safe. She'd tied those knots herself. Her stomach felt slightly sick as she watched him, his grisly hands reaching for her, his eyes blank, his lips peeled back in a snarl as he gnashed his teeth at her. It was pitiful. She hated seeing him like this.

"Hungry?" she asked him, pushing the blanket away and standing. She paced over to her backpack and stooped down; a few squirrels were strung up, the fruits of her earlier hunt. She tugged one off and tossed it to him. It landed near his feet and he went for it, dropping to his knees, digging his fingers into its small body and tearing into it with his teeth, making the soft feeding-noises she had grown so used to. She sat nearer to him and watched him quietly, trying to block out the sounds of tearing flesh and crunching bones. Blood and fur smeared his deathly-pale skin, meat stuck in his teeth. He hunched over his meal, grunting and moaning until nothing resembling a squirrel remained.

"Cole," she breathed in a caught voice. He dropped the remains and his blank eyes—once so vibrant blue and so full of mischief—went to her face; more in response to the sound of her voice, she knew, than to the sound of his name. He licked his lips and a tuft of fur drifted to the ground. He reached out with his hands for her, and his fingertips barely grazed the skin on her forehead. She was safe.

"Want another?" Nina asked, snatching up another squirrel. She placed it in his hand and he tore into it again with an animal-like intensity. His eyes watched her carefully, and she searched them desperately for some sign of _her_ Cole. But the more she searched, the less she found.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, drawing her legs up and resting her chin on her knees. "I had _one_ _job_ and I couldn't even get that right." Her throat tightened and she sniffed, wiping at her eyes. "_No,_" she told herself, clearing her throat. "No."

She glanced around, but the woods were quiet. She stood and stretched with a yawn; she was exhausted. She passed Cole and ruffled his light brown hair—now matted with blood and crust—and he snarled and caught her arm. She tugged it calmly from his grip and kicked out her fire, ignoring the dead boy's cries. It was so hard—_so hard_ to ignore him, to look at him and see what he had become—what she had _let_ him become. Especially when she could still hear his wild laugh, or the hard expression he got when he was fighting for their lives, or—

She kicked the fire violently with one booted foot, sending a small log flying. Swearing, she paced over to it and stomped it out. When the woods had gone dark she pulled out her flashlight and located the tree she'd picked out earlier, one that would be easy to climb. Grabbing her backpack, she hoisted herself into the tree and, finding a sturdy branch a few feet up, strapped herself in for the night. Cole raged at her from the ground.

"Hush up," she murmured to him. "You trying to get me killed, kid?"

His only response was a strained, desperate whine. With a sigh that promptly turned white as it passed her lips, she settled back against the trunk and strapped herself to the tree. She cast another glance down at Cole.

"Get some sleep," she said. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

Cole, of course, didn't sleep. When Nina woke the next morning he was still straining against the rope, gnawing at the air, skinny arms reaching desperately for her. She stared at him for the moment, at the dead skin and eyes, the wound on his shoulder that had killed him, bits of his flannel, the arms in particular, torn away, revealing cuts and festering wounds. The bit of flesh on his jaw that had been torn away by a walker in the attack, leaving the bone exposed, was the worst part. She remembered the attack vividly; Cole screaming her name, trying desperately to fend off the walkers who tore into his body.

"_Nina! Nina!_"

That high, frightened scream children had, the sort that makes your blood run cold and your heart just _stop_. And Cole was 14, much too old to scream like a child, and yet the sound he had made—and oh, the heat of his body as the fever had taken him, and the hallucinations, the pain in his eyes before they had closed. The way the blood soaked through her clothes, stained her hands, and she thought she would never, ever get it off—

"No," Nina told herself. "Stop."

Pushing the memories away, she unstrapped herself from the tree and climbed down. Tugging a squirrel, now cold and stiff, from the backpack, she tossed it to Cole who tore into it as usual. She snacked on a handful of granola for herself and a swallow of water, then packed up her little camp and walked around the tree to untie Cole. She wasn't too worried; just before he had died, he had fallen down a ravine into a stream, subsequently breaking his leg in the process. His cries for Nina's help had been what had called the walkers to him, and the blood that had oozed from the gash in his leg, bone protruding, had been what had driven them to frenzy.

As it was, given the mangled leg, he couldn't exactly chase her. So she walked with him, letting him drag the rope behind him, grumbling and moaning as he tried to catch her, which he would never be able to do. Some days they moved painfully slowly, days when she needed, she felt, to hurry. Days when she would find a sign that the walker she was hunting was close. And close he remained, always just so out of reach. No matter what she did—shot guns to draw him closer, set traps—he always eluded her.

It was good, she supposed. After all, hunting him gave her a purpose. She wasn't sure what she would do when she finally killed him. Hang out with Cole until some of the walkers finally got her? She knew that was how it would all end, eventually. She'd be just another corpse walking around, just like everyone else.

"C'mon, kid," Nina said, "got a lot of ground to cover."

And she set off. Cole shambled behind her. Every once in a while she'd take off at a run, leaving him behind, but she would always stop and give him time to catch up. If he ever got lost, she went back and found him. She kept her eyes open for any sign of Stripes—Stripes, the walker who had helped kill Cole, the only one she hadn't killed, named because he wandered around in a bloodied red-and-white striped sweater. She'd found bits of the fabric and flesh in a thorny bush yesterday morning. He'd apparently gotten hung up somewhere, leaving parts of himself behind.

The day was hot, and before long, Nina was dripping sweat. It dripped from the tip of her nose and into her eyes. Her lips were dry and chapped, and she worked on a bit of loose skin as she walked. It finally pulled and she winced as copper tangy blood bloomed in her mouth. It was a quiet day; the birds chirped softly, but for the most part the animals were all hunkered down, hiding from the heat.

"Jesus," she said, turning to look at Cole. "You're lucky you don't sweat." He groaned at her. "Tell me about it," she mumbled.

A few miles later Nina had had it with the heat. She jogged ahead, giving herself enough distance from Cole, and dropped her backpack. She stripped off her thin t-shirt (a faded gray one with the Captain America shield on the front. It had been one of Cole's) and stuffed it in the pack, so that she was wearing only torn, stained jeans and a sports bra. She tugged her sticky, wildly curling brown hair from its holder and let it fall around her face for a moment before tying it back up in a knot.

"What happened to me?" she mused aloud dryly. "God, I used to be so shallow." She scoffed. It was true. Once upon a time she had been all about appearances. Her face had been flawless, perfectly made-up. She'd worked out constantly in fruitless attempts to tone her hourglass figure. Her curly, lion like hair had always been flat ironed into submission, and her outfits had always been stylish. And now? Her workouts were running for her life and swinging a hatchet into a corpse's skull. Her face was bare and scarred, and her hair was a wild mess. As for outfits—well, whatever wasn't too badly bloodied would do.

Cole was closer now—she could hear his moans and gurgles. She picked up her backpack and glanced at him and continued moving. She was in a familiar part of the woods now, the ravine where Cole had fallen, and she tugged her hatchet out of crudely made weapons belt. Her other hand twitched for the handgun that protruded from the back of her jeans. Her nerves prickled as they always did when she was in the area. She scanned the ravine, pacing the edge of the slopes, and, sure enough, spotted a corpse. She grinned.

"C'mere," she said to Cole, stopping at the edge of the ravine. Standing at the edge, she looked down and saw the water. When Cole was only a few feet away she dodged nimbly around him, avoiding his swinging arms, and snatched up the end of the rope. She tied him to a tree branch, muttered _"Stay,"_ and carefully climbed down the slopes to the water.

The walker was only a few feet away and it had heard her, which was fine. It was shambling over now. She tossed her hatchet from hand to hand, crouched slightly, but she wasn't scared. No, never scared. Fear was only for those people who had something left to lose, and Nina Strider had nothing left. Nothing but a dead brother who she kept tied to a rope so he wouldn't wander off and eat someone.

The corpse snarled and she dodged around him easily. He lunged again, his palm slapping her shoulder, but she evaded him again. It was a deadly game of cat and mouse, and maybe she was crazy, and maybe she wanted to lose. But she didn't. Eventually she danced around the walker and buried her hatchet in his skull. He dropped to the ground like a grotesque puppet whose strings had been cut. She placed her boot on his head and, with a grunt, tugged it free, shaking off the gore and brainy bits.

She grinned slightly, unable to ignore the adrenaline rush or sense of victory. One less dead guy. Thousands left, of course, but she figured every little bit helped. A groan startled her and made her spin around, hatchet raised, snarl in place, but she saw nothing. Nerves prickling, she crept around a bush and peeked out at the rest of the ravine. Another groan drew her attention to the right, and her heart stuttered at what she saw.

There was a man there. Clearly he had fallen down here, just as Cole had. And if the blood in the water was anything to go by, he wasn't in good shape.

"Hey," Nina rasped. "Hey, you." He was out. Cautiously, keeping one eye out for walkers, she approached him. He was sprawled out on his back, filthy, and had been impaled by an arrow. Nina whistled lowly. "Shit, guy," she murmured. She crouched down beside him. He was alive, clearly, but she didn't know for how much longer. She wasn't sure what to do. The last living person she had been in contact with was Cole, and before him it had been months.

The guy groaned. He was a good few years older than her, ten at most. A white guy. He started mumbling and stirring a little, so she grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him.

"Better wake up," she said. He mumbled something about _Merle_, but she didn't get much else. A bush behind her rustled, and she turned, heart hammering. She glanced back at the guy. "Come on, sunshine." A walker snarled and she turned. "_Shit._" Desperately, she shook the guy, even grabbed his leg and pulled, but it was no use. He swatted limply at her. She couldn't move him.

And she was not about to die for him.

"Last chance, bud," she said. "If you're gonna wake up, do it now."

Nothing. She stood. Debated. The walker was joined by another. No time. If she was kind, she thought, she would end it for the guy straight away. Put her hatchet right into his brain. But, as she raised her hatchet, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She bit her lip. The walkers were too close.

"_Shit,_" she said again. She was trembling now. "Sorry." And she hated herself for it, but she ran. She sprinted back up the way she had come, and the walkers fell upon the unconscious man.

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**AN: Okay, so if you liked it, please leave a review! They're such amazing motivation. Tell me how you feel so far! And yes, that was Daryl in the ravine. :)**


	2. Chapter 2 - Guilty

**AN: We meet Sophia in this chapter. From this point on, Nina's descent into insanity will be steady. Also, chapters will be told from other points of view, such as Daryl's and Shane's. This chapter is all Nina, but the next will feature the Atlanta group.**

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Chapter 2 - Guilty

"I am such a chicken shit," Nina said, glancing up at Cole. She'd put off thinking about the man in the ravine for a few good hours, and by now they were a few miles away. Figuring they were safe enough for the time being, Nina had tied her brother to a tree and had decided to stop for a rest. And now thoughts of the incident had wormed their way back into her mind. She sat, curled against a tree beside the one her brother was tied to, and she watched him and his vicious antics thoughtfully.

"They probably tore him apart," she mused. "You would have." She chewed on her fingernail, squeezing her eyes shut. "God, I'm a monster." She gazed into Cole's eyes. "You'd be ashamed of me," she told him. "But you always were the good one, weren't you? Yeah. I've always been the selfish asshole." He snarled at her. "Oh, shut up," she snapped. "It's not like I _wanted_ him to die."

Cole growled and swiped at her. She glared at him. "Well, what did you expect me to do? Carry him?" Cole screeched. "Yeah, I know you would have. Which is why you're the better person. And yet, you're the one who's dead. Funny how that works out, isn't it? If you were alive, you'd have saved him. You would have stayed." She glanced at him. "Don't look at me like that," she mumbled. "It's a different world now, Cole. You know that. I did what I had to. You can't expect me to risk my life for some guy who would probably have died anyway."

Cole made a few soft grunting noises. Nina shook her head. "No, he was impaled. He would have died anyway." Cole gnashed his teeth. "I know because I _know_, Cole! Jesus Christ, kid, I did what I had to do. And I tried, but he didn't wake up." She paused. "I mean yeah, I might have been able to kill them, but—but I don't know. He was dead already, right? As good as dead. So while they were eating him, I could get away."

She thumped her fist against her forehead. "Yeah, I know," she said, throwing a rock at Cole's leg. "I'm a shitty human being. Can we move on, please? I'm trying to do right by you, you know."

Cole made no reply. Nina leaned her head against the tree trunk. "You hungry?" Cole whined. "Yeah, me too," she said. "Alright. Sit tight, I'm gonna go do some hunting. Don't worry, I'll be back soon." She stood and stretched out her back, which was tense and coiled. The bones snapped and cracked, popping back into place. She shook out her shoulders and grabbed her backpack, slipping her shirt on over her head. The heat was more tolerable now, later in the day. Her brother snarled after her, moaning desperately, and she tried to ignore the sound.

Squirrels were plentiful around here, thankfully. She wandered far enough from camp that her gunshots wouldn't attract any walkers to that area and sat quietly. Hunting squirrels with a handgun wasn't the easiest business, but it was doable. Within an hour or so, she had three and was heading back to camp.

A scream shattered the stillness, and she froze. It sounded awfully close to camp. Another scream, and she was running. What the hell? It had been months since she'd encountered people, and now two in the same day? That was the whole point of living in these godforsaken woods—to avoid people.

It took a few minutes to reach camp, and when she got there, her heart stopped and her blood turned to ice in her veins.

Cole was gone.

"Shit," she said. _"Cole!_"

Another scream, this one horribly close, and Nina dropped her squirrels and ran toward the sound. And when she finally found the source of the screams, she felt suddenly dizzy, or like she was falling. Cole had trapped someone, a young girl, and was mauling her. Like an animal.

"_No!_" Nina cried, lurching forward. The girl screamed and kicked, struggling and sobbing.

"Help me!" she cried, straining against Cole, pushing his face away from her body with her hands. His jaws snapped at her arm, just missing the skin.

Nina's hatchet was in her hand, raised instinctively. But she hesitated. Cole, her baby brother, she couldn't hurt him—the girl locked eyes with her—

And that moment of hesitation was all it took. The girl closed her eyes and screamed a bloodcurdling scream as Cole sank his teeth into her.

"No," Nina gasped, dropping the hatchet. "No."

She lunged forward and tackled Cole, knocking him to the side. She straddled him, pinning his arms to the ground with her legs and stripping off her belt, securing it between his teeth and tying it behind his head with deft, cold precision. Then she rolled off of him and crawled over to the girl, a little blonde, not much younger than Cole, with dirty skin and torn clothes.

"Oh, God," Nina whispered. "Oh, no. Oh, no."

She drew the girl into her arms. Cole had bitten her neck. Blood ran down her shoulders and her neck, and the girl twisted violently in her arms, screaming.

"Shh," Nina pleaded. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay."

Cole growled and gnawed on the belt. The girl in Nina's arms clutched at Nina's shirt, her eyes large and terrified.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Nine murmured, pulling the girl in close. She made a soft whimpering sound.

"I'm scared," she rasped, and she started to cry.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay," Nina lied. The girl clutched her. "What's your name?" Nina asked. "Shh, what's your name?"

"Sophia," she choked.

"Alright, calm down, Sophia. Okay? You're going to be fine."

"No I'm not," Sophia said softly. "I know."

"I'm so sorry," Nina whispered.

Sophia started struggling, her eyes fixed on a point behind Nina. Rather gracelessly, Nina dropped Sophia and spun around. A walker loomed behind her. Nina seized a hunting knife and flicked it out and it buried itself between his eyes. Cole was struggling to his feet and Nina shoved him back down. Tugging off her shirt, she returned to Sophia and pressed the fabric to her neck. The girl winced as Nina cleaned the wound, and when she inspected it, she found that the bite was deep. Deadly.

She didn't have long.

Nina held the girl for as long as she could, held her as the life faded from her body, and it didn't take long. When it was over, when the girl's hand went slack on Nina's shoulder, Nina laid her gently on the ground. Her whole body was shaking, and she rolled to the side and vomited. She didn't have much in her stomach, and when it was over, she stood and wiped drool from her chin. She couldn't look at the little corpse on the ground. It was too painful. It reminded her too much of the time she had held Cole as he had died.

_Cole!_

She spun around. Cole was trapped on his back, his broken leg keeping him from getting up.

"No!" she cried, grabbing his shirt and yanking him to his feet and shaking him. She screamed wordlessly, pacing in a circle. _"No! No, no, no._ What have you done? What have _I_ done? A little girl, Cole!"

He snarled behind her and she lost it. She spun around and slapped him _hard_ in the face, so hard it rocked him back. He snarled at her, and then what she had done sank in.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Cole, I'm so sorry."

He lunged for her and, crying, she shoved him back. When he came again, she shoved him harder, and he fell, and she fell on top of him and sat on him, pinning his arms again. She pulled out her pistol, baring her teeth, sobbing, and placed the barrel between his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said again. He struggled beneath her. Her hand shook on the gun, and it took two hands to steady it. Her finger twitched on the trigger. "Come on," she urged herself. "_Come on._" It was the right thing to do, and she knew it had to be done. She stared down into his face, her tears falling onto his cold, rotten skin. He groaned beneath her and she tried desperately to squeeze the trigger, but—

"_Shit!"_ The word came out as a scream. "Goddammit. Oh, shit." She wiped her eyes and stuffed the gun away. Still straddling him, she punched him in the chest and stood. "Get a grip, Nina," she told herself. Already, her mind was working. What were the chances of running into two people in the same day, only miles from each other, in the same woods? Very slim. She wasn't stupid; she could put two and two together.

They had to be together. Maybe he was her father, or her brother. Maybe it was just the two of them—_I killed them both_—or maybe there were more, but that was a risk she couldn't take. She had to protect herself, and she had to protect Cole. She knew from experience that people couldn't be trusted, and if they happened upon her and Cole—

"Come on," she said to Cole. "Get up." She hauled him to his feet. "How the hell did you escape? I—ah." She spotted it. The rope had frayed. The stupid rope had frayed and cost a little girl her life.

No, the rope wasn't to blame. She was. She glared at Cole, who went toward Sophia to finish his meal. If she had killed Cole earlier, ended this whole thing, if she hadn't hesitated—

"No," she said. Can't think about that. No time for regrets. She grabbed the frayed end of Cole's rope and tugged him away, but he resisted, still intent on Sophia. After a few more failed attempts to distract him, she finally grabbed a clean knife and slit open her palm, waving it in his face. The scent of fresh blood got his attention, and she was able to lead him away. For a moment she considered bringing Sophia with her, but she squashed the idea. Instead, she left the girl's body there, too cowardly to put a bullet in her skull. Truth be told, she was conflicted about the whole thing. She'd spent so long telling herself that Cole was just a boy with a disease, that he could be saved. She couldn't kill the girl. Maybe she wouldn't hurt anyone. And besides, it wasn't her problem.

So, switching her emotions off, to be dealt with later, she dragged her dead brother away from the death he—or she, rather—had caused. The guilt gnawed at her, ate her alive, as did her cowardice. Two deaths in one day, she thought. She had caused two, and she wasn't even strong enough to stop the girl from turning.

_Not my problem,_ she reasoned. _Not my kid, not my problem. Someone else can handle it._

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**AN: What I love about Nina is that she'd not a perfect character. She is so flawed. And I can't wait to write more! Please review. How do you like Nina? Cole? We'll get more into their past and into other characters in the next chapters.**

**Thanks for reading, and like I said, please drop a review. Let me know how I'm doing! I'll love you forever, and I respond to all reviews.**


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